


What About Him?

by day_dreamer016



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Identity Issues, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Post-Fall of Overwatch, References to Depression, References to Illness, Song Lyrics, Song: Cut My Hair (Mounika), Trigger Warnings, Triggers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 22:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17374748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/day_dreamer016/pseuds/day_dreamer016
Summary: Genji isn't feeling so great about things anymore.---Song Ficlet to Cut My Hair by Mounika





	What About Him?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little shorter than what I have written before.
> 
> Lyrics:  
> Often i am upset  
> That i cannot fall in love  
> But i guess  
> This avoids the stress of falling out of it  
> Are you tired of me yet?  
> I'm a little sick right now but i swear  
> When i'm ready i will fly us out of here  
> I'll cut my hair  
> Strangely he feels at home in this  
> Often i am upset  
> That i cannot fall in love  
> But i guess  
> This avoids the stress of falling out of it  
> Are you tired of me yet?  
> I'm a little sick right now but i swear  
> When I'm ready I will fly us out of here  
> I'll cut my hair  
> Strangely he feels at home in this place

The days pass by in years. It had only been about a week, maybe not even. He didn’t know for sure, only knew the days had passed when the sun rose and set. He felt sick. His body ached and everything seemed to spin. Normally things wouldn’t be this bad. He always had a pep in step, a little giddy-up-and-go. Maybe it was the sight of the cowboy that did this. That’s what Hanzo suggested anyways.

It had been decades since he’s seen the other. It was the only man he had ever missed. Others never had the privilege of being so close to the one and only Genji Shimada. Then again, McCree and he had been through everything together. But does that really matter? He still looked the same. Even smelt the same; smoke and lavender. A hint of alcohol on his beard. Everything about him was the same. What did Genji have to offer that was new? Nothing. All he did was maybe cut his hair a little shorter. Then again, that was a while ago too. He looked about the same as he did before the fallout of Overwatch. McCree didn’t seem to care, though.

He still kissed him the same. Loved him the same. Maybe it didn’t feel that way because Genji didn’t feel the same. He did, he loved Jesse with all his heart (what was left of it). But maybe it was because he was not happy being back in love. Falling out of it was harder than falling in it. The thought of it stressed the cyborg out. Everyone noticed.

“What’s wrong Genji?”

“Are you okay Genji?”

No one mattered, though. No one but him. Those big doe-brown-eyes that shone with such innocence. And after everything they had been through? Gangs, Blackwatch, Overwatch, their love --- nothing was as innocent as it had been. Maybe when they were kids, maybe not. Either way, Genji could only sob at the thought of those eyes. The way they look at him, see past him,  _ undress him. _

“Are you tired of me yet?”

“How could I ever be tired of you, darlin’?”

There was a sigh, then a moan. A bite, a kiss, some blood and tears. Maybe there was a fit of laughter here and there. Other than that, their love-making came naturally. It was second nature. Genji hated that. It felt fake, it was too familiar and too much like all the other times. He allowed it. To feel real, like a human being? It was Genji’s favorite feeling. More-so than the love that made his heart practically burst or jump. The feeling never lasts long, however. Once everything lays to rest, is obliged to be deafening silent. That’s when Genji feels it the most.

“You’re alone.”

“He doesn’t love you.”

“He should have killed you.”

He just screams. Not out loud, not silently. There are too many ears around for that. He does it in the void, in his mind. No one can hear him but himself, and that’s what makes things okay. Right?


End file.
